


Photographs

by Aquareanne



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Fluff, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-16
Updated: 2017-03-16
Packaged: 2018-10-06 03:44:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10324874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aquareanne/pseuds/Aquareanne
Summary: You can't think of a better way to remember him.





	

The shutter closes with a soft  _ hiss _ and an image appears on the screen. It’s Junkrat, long limbs sprawled out in every direction, occupying the entire mattress. He’s glowing, blanketed by the sun’s golden embrace, and you’re struck by how delicate he looks. Tranquil, too, like waves on a calm day. You snap more photos and adjust the curtains, enabling the light to filter evenly through the window. Satisfied with the resulting pictures, you lay the camera on the nightstand and slip underneath the blankets.

Photographing him started off as a commemoration, a means of remembering the way the moonlight reflected in his amber eyes, but one picture turned into three and suddenly your gallery consisted only of him and his too-wide grin. The risqué photos, the ones that would never be framed and placed atop the coffee table, are stored on your digital camera. You save them for when away, off in another country, and you’re lonely.

Polaroids of you and him hang on the wall, strung together with string and clothespins. Your favorite lies in the center, slightly worn around the edges from the times you’d take it down just to hold it. It was love in its purest form, preserved for eternity. He swore he’d never been happier that day and you believed him because you felt the same.

Junkrat loves the photographs. He looks at them when you’re away, wondering how he got lucky enough to wake up next to you, and never hesitates to show them off to Roadhog, who’s seen them all before but never complains. It’s endearing, seeing him brag about how incredible you are, even though you tend to disagree with his comments.

You love them because you watched him grow into his confidence. He had never been comfortable with his appearance, fluctuating between self-confidence and self-consciousness, but you changed his that with your heartfelt compliments and praise. He’s comfortable, now, because of you.


End file.
